


Been Here All Along

by gonergone



Category: You Belong With Me - University of Rochester Yellowjackets (Music Video)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-31
Updated: 2016-07-31
Packaged: 2018-07-28 10:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7636945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gonergone/pseuds/gonergone





	Been Here All Along

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aliencupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliencupcake/gifts).



Sam always said they'd known each other since they were born, since they had always lived next door to each other, but they hadn't actually met until kindergarten. Even back then Sam had been the hyperactive annoying kid that was just begging to be bullied, and most of his classmates had learned to ignore his ADHD-inspired chatter until he was mostly just talking to himself all day, sitting alone on the floor and coloring while everyone else fell into groups of friends. (In most ways, life after kindergarten had been a long repeat of that social Darwinism, with Sam always left on his own… except for Brian.) One day in kindergarten Brian sat down next to him peering at the piece of paper with a frown. 

"What is that?" he asked. "You colored outside all the lines."

"I didn't like what was in the picture," Sam admitted, "so I drew my own."

"You're not very good at drawing," Brian declared, which was not incorrect, but then he smiled and started drawing outside the lines on his sheet, too, and that had been it. The beginning of their friendship. Or, The Beginning!!, as Sam always thought of it. Generally, anything involving Brian got lots of Capital Letters and exclamation points in Sam's mind. That was how Sam was. Brian was just the first person who hadn't minded, who had put up with all of Sam's weirdness, even if he never understood any of it.

*

The thing about Sam's Mom was that she had always been very into reading palms and Tarot cards, and since he had come out she'd told him over and over that The Lovers was a very powerful card in his life, whatever that meant. Sam tended to assume that it was her way of telling him it was okay to be gay, as if he didn't know that already. (Sam's Mom was also very into PFLAG, and had a rainbow bumper sticker on her car that said I'm Proud of My Gay Son! which alternated between making Sam want to tear up and die of embarrassment.)

It was hard to imagine The Lovers having any baring at all on his life, considering that Sam and hadn't so much as kissed someone. (Not that he hadn't imagined it. A lot. Probably more than was healthy.) Sam was the only out gay guy in their entire high school, and even the Gay-Straight Alliance meetings usually had Sam, three or four girls and Brian, who was the token straight and came mostly because he knew it would make Sam happy.

Also because Sam begged him to.

Brian was his best friend, and was pretty much always doing things that Sam asked him to with a kind of baffled cheerfulness that also tended to make Sam want to tear up or die of embarrassment, because Brian was the kind of loyal, amazing friend that Sam wasn't always sure that he deserved.

Which was pretty much why he was in love with him, he thought.

*

"Is this seriously supposed to be motivational?" Brian raised an eyebrow at him, grabbing for Sam's phone. "It isn't even music!"

"Excuse you," Sam told him, throwing an elbow at him and smiling when Brian dogged it easily. "This is a podcast of Noel talking about his favorite albums," he protested, turning it up. 

"Don't you know all this already, though?" Brian slowed his pace a little, jogging in place next to Sam. It was always a little disheartening to see how Brian wasn't even breathing hard while Sam was a sweaty, panting mess. If Sam didn't know Brian better he would have sworn Brian dragged him running every morning just to torture him. 

"No? Well, okay, yes, but –"

"Please can we listen to actual music?" Brian begged. "I don't care what it is, as long as it has a beat."

Sam sighed, pushing his glasses up, and trying to catch his breath. "But it's Noel," he protested weakly, already flipping through album choices. 

"We'll listen to it later," Brian promised, which actually meant they would listen to it later, because Brian never broke his promises.

Noel Gallagher had been Sam's hero for four years and six months, since the day Sam had stumbled on an Oasis documentary after school one day. There was something about someone who tended to say whatever he felt without having to hide it that Sam couldn't help but admire. Sometimes Sam wondered what his life would be like if he could do that, just for a day.

I love you, and I think we'd be perfect together, he imagined saying, and then he imagined the horror – or worse, pity – in Brian's eyes. "What about tonight?" Sam asked instead. "I'll come over after practice and we can make popcorn. We still have the rest of season three of The Americans to watch, anyway." 

Brian looked back at him over his shoulder. "Actually, Karen and I are going to some party one of her friends is throwing." He sounded apologetic, which was ridiculous. 

"Hey, no big deal," Sam told him breezily, well, as breezily as he could while feeling like his lungs were about to explode. "I have plenty of invitations for tonight. I just thought you might want to log some quality best friend time, that's all."

"Log some best friend time? Dude, I see you all the time. I'm seeing you right now, in fact."

"I do not count this as quality time," Sam countered, because seriously. It was running. Quality time did not involve running. There was probably some kind of law. 

"Your loss," Brian laughed, speeding up and leaving Sam behind.

Typical, Sam thought, speeding up to catch him. He turned the music up, even though Brian so didn't deserve it, and was rewarded with the bright smile that always made everything worth it. Maybe, a small, traitorous part of his heart said, maybe this could count as quality time after all. Maybe.

*

Sam had been looking across the space between his window and Brian's for so long that it was automatic for him to glance toward the window whenever he walked into his room. When they were kids they'd tried to do the whole tin-cans-and-string thing, but it really hadn't worked as well as the Hardy Boys books had hinted at, and tin cans had nothing on text messages anyway.

Sam always left his blinds open, and most of the time Brian did, too, and it felt good – no, comforting – to know what Brian was up to, even if they'd just spent half the day together. Even if they'd just spent the whole weekend together. Sam knew he had no upper limit on how much time he could, or would, spend with Brian, and until Brian had started dating Karen he'd thought that had gone both ways.

Of course, he'd rather rip his own tongue out than ever mention that fact to Brian, so at least that was one humiliation he hadn't experienced. 

Sometimes, though, he wondered if Brian knew anyway.

*

"I think it's a hand-eye coordination thing," Sam sighed as he stalled the truck again. "I've never been good at operating machinery."

Brian snorted. "That is such a load of crap. You kick my ass at every single video game we've ever played together, including Madden NFL, which just proves the universe is neither good nor fair."

"That's because video games are within the realm of my natural gifts," Sam told him. "Much like drawing and music appreciation, which you also kind of suck at."

"Thanks for pointing that out. Again." He touched Sam's shoulder lightly, his hand huge and warms. "Start it up again, and try not to grind the gears so much this time. You've watched me do this a million times."

"I should be better at it," Sam agreed. "Maybe my natural gifts revolve around driving an automatic."

Brian just smiled, pretending not to hear the grating sound as Sam fumbled with the clutch and not making a joke about it, or rubbing Sam's nose in it. Sam wondered sometimes what he'd done to ever deserve someone so patient in his life. 

"You feel like a burger?" Sam asked. "I think I might be ready to hit a drive thru soon."

Brian shook his head. "I think that might be a little optimistic. Besides, I'm supposed to be over at Karen's already."

Sam felt his good mood evaporate instantaneously. He was pretty sure that Brian and Karen were sleeping together, even if he and Brian had never, ever talked about it – one of the few zoned off areas their friendship had ever had. 

If there was a way (short of running into a tree) that he could break the truck enough to keep Brian with him just a little longer, he thought he would do it, even if that, like the universe, was neither good nor fair. 

The truth was that when it came to Brian, there wasn't much Sam wouldn't do. After so many years of moving together, in tandem, they were growing apart, and that hurt Sam almost as much as it scared him.

If he couldn't count on Brian, Sam felt like he couldn't count on anything. 

*

Sam knew he liked men; there had never been any question for him. Brian had never talked about liking boys the way Sam did, but somehow Sam had thought it just meant he wasn't ready to be out. He'd always thought that the way that Brian looked at girls in their class was a peer pressure jock thing, that he was just doing it for show. He'd never thought Brian could actually be into women until Brian started dating Karen – Brian would never toy with someone's heart like that. He wouldn't actually date someone unless he really liked them, which made everything a lot harder. 

*

Don't like Beatrice or Benedick Brian wrote, holding up the sign for Sam to see it. It was his way of trying to make Sam laugh, the handwritten notes, and it usually worked. Sam thought the notes were more personal than a text, that they mattered more because it was something only he could share with Brian. Anyone could get a text from him, but Sam got handwritten notes held up between the bedroom windows that only Sam could see. 

Are you kidding? They're sarcastic and hilarious and the best! Sam scrawled back.

Are you insulting my taste? Brian mock-scowled at him over the note.

Totally! You couldn't even be more wrong! Sam considered for a moment, marker poised over a blank sheet of paper. I guess that's why you need me in your life.

Do you seriously think your taste is better than mine? Sam couldn't see it well from that distance, but he knew Brian's incredulous look by heart. 

I think we both know the answer to that.

Brian shook his head at him, a fond smile tipping the edge of his lips. It was a look that Sam had seen a lot since they'd met, and it almost always preceded some kind of concession from Brian: why yes, Sam, your taste actually is the best the world has ever known, etc. Not that Brian had ever said those actual words, but Sam thought it was just a matter of time. Before Brian could start to write out a response, though, his attention shifted to his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone, and the fond smile shifted to something deeper, a look that Sam would've sworn Brian had never given him. That meant it had to be Karen, so Sam looked away quickly. 

Even without looking at Brian, Sam could tell the moment when Brian's smile disappeared and his pacing intensified. He and Karen were obviously fighting, again, and Sam scowled into his homework, pushing his glasses up with more force than was necessary. 

He waited until Brian hung up the phone. You OK? he held up.

Brian gave him a tired smile. Tired of drama.

Sorry, Sam wrote, adding an unhappy face beside it. He really was sorry. Brian deserved so much better. 

He tapped the marker on the paper for a long moment, hesitating, before deciding that he was tired of waiting and hoping for Brian to figure things out. Tired of trying to hide what he really wanted. 

I love you, he wrote carefully, making sure that Brian would be able to read it. Finished, he looked up only to find that Brian had closed his curtains at some point, leaving their conversation and Sam feeling suddenly bereft. 

*

Their neighborhood was large and soulless, and Sam hated it. The only part of it he liked was the brambly path around the preposterous man-made pond. Their usual morning jogging route took them around the pond twice, and Sam tended to use the benches along the pond's edge to collapse into if he was having a particularly bad running day. It was also the place Sam went to read or listen to music when he was depressed or needed to get out of the house, his place, and of course Brian knew when to look for him there. 

Sam snapped his book shut immediately when plopped down on the bench beside him, thrilled to see Brian looking cheerful and relaxed again after last night.

"You know, we never finished our conversation," Sam told him.

"Right, the one where you erroneously started to tell me how much better your taste is than mine," Brian grinned. "Citation needed, Samuel." 

"Augh, Samuel, you're killing me," Sam sighed. "But I actually meant the conversation we were having after that." He licked his lips nervously, feeling his heart start to kick faster. This was it. It was better that it be when he and Brian were face to face, not writing notes to each other. This was how it was supposed to be.

"After Karen called, you mean," Brian's smile faded. "She's going to pick me up soon so we can 'talk', or something." 

"Oh?" Sam felt his determination draining away. He didn't want to pick at Brian's mood, but when it came to Karen he couldn't always help himself. "It seems like all you guys do lately is fight."

Brian sighed. "Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair, looking out over the pond. "Let's… can we talk about something else?"

"Of course. Anything you want," Sam said quickly.

One side of Brian's mouth quirked up. "Tell me about your book."

Sam grinned, and most of it was real. He held the book up so Brian could see the cover. "Okay, so this is the third book in the series. Remember I told you that in the second book, there was the whole Element Games thing happening?"

"Magic tournament deal, right?" Brian asked.

"Exactly. So this book starts with Kel…"

By the time the minivan pulled up beside them, Sam had nearly forgotten that Karen was on her way. He watched the way Brian swung into the van, barely giving him a backward glance before slamming the door after him and leaning in to kiss her. Sam wanted to look away – he really did – but he couldn't. One second he was watching Brian's lips, imagining how soft they were, what it would feel like for Brian's hand to wrap in his hair, holding him close…

That was when he realized that Karen had noticed his staring, and was glaring back at him, even as she practically moved into Brian's lap, practically devouring him. 

Sam jerked his gaze away quickly, knowing that it wasn't quick enough. He was caught, and by Karen, of all people. He was aware that his breathing was quick and shallow as he turned on the bench to stare behind him unseeing, needing to look at anything other than Brian. By the time he looked back, they were gone.

*

The thing was, it wasn't that Sam hated Karen – he didn't. He wanted to, sure. He really, really wanted to hate Karen. He wanted to think that she was vapid and superficial and had horrible, horrible taste in music, and the fact that Brian liked her and wanted to be with her and not Sam made him physically ill, because he couldn't understand it at all, and he had always understood Brian, or so he liked to tell himself. 

Even if he didn't hate her, he didn't like her, of course, there was too much about Brian in there for that to ever be possible, and he could never, ever see why she and Brian were together. Brian seemed to like her, and that had to count for something. After all, Brian liked Sam, so he had good taste, despite all the shit that Sam gave him for it.

"You just don't know her," Brian had told him more than once. 

"I don't need to know her," Sam shrugged. "I know you, and when you're together all you do is fight."

Brian seemed to consider this for a long moment, his fingers tapping lightly against the truck's steering wheel. "That's not true," he said finally. "We fight when you're around more than we fight when you're not."

"What? Why?" It dawned on him slowly. "She doesn't like me?" Even thought he'd never liked her, it had never occurred to Sam that she didn't like him, either. He'd thought she just didn't like anyone. "Why doesn't she like me? I'm awesome."

Brian sighed. "She doesn't know you. If she did, she'd have to like you."

"That's what I think," Sam agreed, "but apparently not. Although, I guess a lot of people know me and don't like me, let's be real."

Brian smiled despite his annoyance, which Sam took as a small victory. "She's just jealous of you. Of all the time we spend together. And… some other things."

Sam barely heard him. "What time? You're always with her!"

"That's funny, because she said the same thing about you."

Sam let out a huff of breath. "Guess you can't clone yourself, huh?"

"Not at the moment. But I'll figure something out."

Sam bit his lip, knowing there was no way to make everyone happy. "I'll try not to bug you about her so much. If you'd rather be with her…"

Brian patted his knee lightly. "No, it's okay. Really. I wouldn't rather be anywhere other than where I am, okay?" The best part – or the worst part, depending on how Sam looked at it – was that he meant it. It was so close to what Sam wanted to hear that he almost didn't trust his own ears.

"Okay," he agreed. "But if something changes, we'll talk about it, right?"

"Of course we will. We talk about everything." The next time Brian smiled at him, the smile was real. "Wanna play something? I'll let you choose the music."

"Of course I'm going to choose the music," Sam said automatically. Not that much had changed. As he fiddled with his phone he didn't miss the fond look that Brian flashed toward him.

*

Every so often, Sam would drag Brian to one of the all ages shows at the Black Cat or the Made Club. It was hard to tell if Brian enjoyed himself or not. He always said he was having a good time, but Sam couldn't shake the idea that he'd rather be with Karen.

The night they went to see a band called Crescent Stairwave (which were terrible, and which Brian complained about for the next three weeks), the opening act was a band called Renji that even Sam had never heard of. Sam had pulled Brian right to the edge of the stage, as usual, and they both noticed that the blond guitarist seemed to be taking a bit of interest in Sam. At first Sam thought maybe there was something on his face, or that, more than likely, he was just imagining the attention. 

At least, he thought that until Brian nudged his side, and then Sam thought it might really be happening. 

After Renji finished their set, Sam felt more than a flutter in his stomach as he watched the blond cut through the crowd toward them. Even then he was telling himself it wasn't for him; maybe there was someone he knew in the crowd, or maybe he was actually coming to talk to Brian. He thought that all the way up to when the blond stopped in front of him, grinning.

"Hi," he said, looking directly into Sam's eyes.

"Um, hi?" Sam blinked at him.

"I'm Steve."

"Sam." Sam held out his hand for Steve to shake automatically before his brain caught up with the fact that this might not be exactly a shake-hands kind of situation. Sam actually had no idea how to talk to guys, especially hot guys, at all.

Steve seemed game, though, and his hand was warm. "I noticed you from the stage."

"I noticed you noticing," Sam admitted.

Steve's smile widened. "Good. You want to get a drink?"

"Oh," Sam blinked at him again, uncertain. He was so far out of his depth in this situation he really wasn't sure how to handle it. "I'm here with someone," he blurted, which was the truth, even though Brian had slipped off into the crowd when he'd been otherwise occupied. The worst part was, he probably thought he was doing Sam a favor, getting out of the way.

Sam was going to kill him.

Steve held up a hand. "Right, I get it. Well, if you ever change your mind, can I give you my number?"

"Sure." Sam patted his pockets and eventually came up with his phone, which he handed over. Their fingers brushed as Steve handed it back, and there was definitely a charge there, though nothing compared to Brian. Still, the whole experience was leaving Sam with a heady feeling now that it was over. 

As Steve disappeared into the crowd, Sam just stood there smiling to himself. He barely even registered it when Crescent Stairwave took the stage, and it was probably just as well, if they were as lousy as Brian said they were.

*

Brian rejoined him halfway through the set's first half, though they didn't talk until the show was over, as they walked down the street back to the truck.

"That guy was hitting on you," he said finally, and Sam wasn't sure how to read his tone. 

"He wasn't hitting on me," Sam responded, rolling his eyes. "Flirting a little, I guess", he admitted. "I'm sure he just didn't want to hit on you because you're too good looking. You know, kind of intimidatingly so. Or maybe he could tell that you're straight."

There was a long pause. "I'm not straight," Brian said flatly.

"Well, straight but not narrow," Sam corrected. "A true ally to the people."

"I'm not… that's not what I meant." Brian stood next to the truck with the keys in his hand. He was still frowning, and Sam had no idea what was wrong.

"Did…" Brian started. "Did you like that he was hitting on you?"

Sam stared at him, totally at a loss. "I guess? I mean, he's kind of hot, even if he's not my type, so it was flattering. But it wasn't, like, a thing, you know?"

"What is your type?"

Sam swallowed. "Why?"

"I didn't know you had a type. It feels weird, to not know that." Brian was still frowning. 

"I don't know. Um, artist nerds, you know, like me," he said wildly, spouting the first thing that came to mind. 

"Really?"

"Well, I want someone I have things in common with."

Brian nodded slowly. "Right, that makes sense."

It did? Sam snuck a look at him from the corner of his eye. Brian had to know that was bullshit, right? Brian knew him better than anyone in the world. He had to know. He had to.

But Brian just turned and opened the door, the frown turned into a thoughtful crease between his eyebrows that Sam didn't know how to interpret at all.

*

"You're not going to the dance?" Brian asked, which just proved that even best friends missed some things, because Sam would've sworn that anyone who'd ever met him would've known the answer to that question.

"I have a policy about high school dances," Sam reminded him.

"I remember; I just thought you might've changed your mind. We don't have many high school dance opportunities left, you know. They're a huge cultural milestone for a reason."

"That sounds like a load of crap to me," Sam said honestly. "I don't expect to be swept off my feet by my one true love or anything." Though that didn't mean he didn't want that to happen. He wanted that more than anything. Who wouldn't? "And I look terrible in a tux."

"Nobody looks terrible in a tux," Brian countered. "Tuxes are insta-suave wear."

"Not everyone can fill it out the way you do," Sam pointed out, and immediately had to fight down the blush.

Luckily, Brian didn't seem to notice. "You should consider going to the dance. It might be a lot better than what you're imagining."

"And it might be a lot worse," Sam reminded him. "The music is going to be seriously terrible. Besides, it's not like there are going to be any hot guys for me to dance with, so what’s the point?"

"See, there you go, assuming things again. I happen to know of one hot guy who would dance with you if you asked him."

Sam could feel his heart beating faster. "You do?" 

"Sure, that guy you met the other night. You already said he was hot, and he was definitely into you. Total dance material, if you ask me."

Disappointment crashed over Sam, but he managed to plaster a smile on his face anyway. "Right, him. Well, I guess if a miracle happens and that random guy shows up and sweeps me off my feet, then I guess I'll agree to go to the dance. Until then, though…" 

Brian held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I get it. I just wish you'd consider it. I think you'd have more fun than you expect."

"I'll just have to live vicariously through you, I guess," Sam told him. "Like always."

"Like always," Brian agreed, but he sounded almost sad about it.

*

The night before the dance Sam knew that Brian and Karen were going out with some of her friends, and he sat in his room studying past midnight with one eye on Brian's windows, waiting for him to get home. He had practice before school and they needed to go running, so it was weird that he was getting home so late.

Sam ended up falling asleep on his chemistry textbook, waiting for lights to come on. When he woke up the next morning, his glasses had left indentations against his skin and Brian's curtains were drawn, so he obviously got home at some point.

*

Sam waited outside between their houses for about ten minutes in his running clothes, getting more and more nervous as the minutes ticked by and Brian didn't join him. Brian never missed his morning run, even when he was sick. Even when the world was falling down, Sam knew Brian would be out running first thing in the morning; it was one of the tenets his life was built around. 

When it finally became clear that Brian really, truly wasn't coming, Sam stood outside his front door, debating whether it would be more annoying to knock and wake up Brian's parents or just let himself in. He ended up letting himself in and heading upstairs, knocking perfunctorily on his bedroom door before cracking it open and peering inside. 

Brian was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing his running clothes but just sitting there, staring off into space. When Sam came into the room Brian's attention snapped to him.

"Hi," Sam said quietly.

"Hi." Brian looked exhausted, and Sam wondered if he'd managed to get any sleep at all the night before. "Sorry I'm late."

"Not a big deal," Sam told him, waving a hand. "Are you okay?"

Brian bit his lip. "Karen and I broke up."

"Oh." Sam blinked. "Oh. Um. I'm sorry?" He didn't mean for it to come out like a question, and winced. "I'm really sorry, Brian. I mean, I'm sure you guys will be back together pretty soon." He sat down next to him and rested a hand on Brian's back.

"No. Thanks, but I seriously doubt that'll happen," Brian sighed. "She had some very good points about my level of commitment to the relationship, and I had to agree with her. That's not the kind of thing that you can just get over and get back together. Besides, I don't think either of us wants to get back together."

Sam could feel his indignation rising on Brian's behalf. "That's crazy. You play three sports! You're in training all the time! She can't expect you to give that up –"

"She wasn't upset about the sports."

Sam picked at the skin around his fingernail. "Is it me? Does she want you to stop hanging out? Because you need to be allowed to have friends, man, it's not cool that she's giving you an ultimatum about that."

"She doesn't care about my friends." 

Sam was stumped. "What is it, then?"

Brian turned to look at him. "You."

Sam frowned. "You just said –"

"I said she didn't care about my friends. I shouldn't – it was stupid of me to think that she didn't know that you and I aren't just friends."

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't, Sam. Not with me, okay? We're not friends. I'm not sure if we've ever just been friends. We've always been way more intense than anything else."

"Is that bad?"

"Well… yeah, if my relationship with you is more intense than my relationship with my girlfriend, then yeah, it can be bad for the girlfriend. I don't blame her for breaking things off. She thought I was just using her to prove I liked girls, or something. Some macho bullshit thing."

"But you weren't," Sam said, puzzled.

"I don't think so." Brian shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe a little? Part of me is definitely worried about what scouts will hear next year, if I have a boyfriend. I mean, my whole future revolves around getting scouted. I know that's dumb, and you're probably pissed to hear me say that, but – "

"No, it's… I get it." Because Sam did. He always had. 

Brian looked him in the eye for a second, then nodded. "Right. So that's definitely been on my mind. I really did like Karen, though. I mean, I do like her, even if we're not together anymore."

"Of course. And you might get back together. Stranger things have happened."

Brian's mouth twisted. "I doubt it."

"She that mad?"

"No, I'm just more interested in being with someone else. That much I'm sure of."

Sam's heart started beating faster, even though he knew that Brian wasn't implying what he desperately wished and hoped he was implying. "I hope it's not another cheerleader," he joked weakly.

"Definitely not." Brian raised a hand lightly and slowly, so very slowly, brushed the hair away from Sam's eyes.

Sam swallowed hard. In what was arguably the most important moment of his life so far, he could not think of a single thing to say. Or, actually, he could think of a ton of things to say, but most of them were just screaming. What he did say: "Um."

Brian smiled, and it went all the way to his eyes. His thumb slipped down Sam's cheek to tip his chin up gently. When Brian leaned in, it was slowly, again and if it had been anyone else Sam would have wondered if they were doing it on purpose, dragging the moment out as torture, but Brian had never had that kind of thing in him. He was moving slowly to give Sam time to pull away, if he wanted it, which was probably the dumbest thing Sam had ever seen Brian do.

As if.

When they kissed, it was ever cheesy movie firework, earthshaking moment ever, all rolled into a heart stopping minute. Even as it was happening Sam couldn't wrap his mind around that fact that it was happening. Finally, finally happening, for real and not as part of his morning shower jerk off session. 

Brian was kissing him. Brian was kissing him. And it was so much better than Sam had dared imagine. 

When the kiss broke, Brian pulled back a little, but his hand moved from Sam's chin down to his waist, holding him in place. "Okay?" he asked, and there was a real spark of worry behind it.

"Okay," Sam breathed, not even trying to temper the grin that spread all over his face.

Brain's grin was mostly relief. "Good. Um, I'd like to do that again, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind. In fact, I think we'll be doing a lot of that from now on. Right?"

"Right."

Sam took his hand and threaded their fingers together like he'd always wanted to. "Right," he said again, nodding. 

"You know, this means I need a date for the dance," Brian told him. "If you're up for it." 

"The music's going to be horrible," Sam replied, but he was grinning harder than he ever had before. 

"The worst," Brian agreed. "But I promise to sweep you off your feet anyway."

"Totally worth it, then," Sam said, and he meant it.


End file.
